


A Peculiar Kind of Fear

by Nanfreak (Nan_Golden)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Sex Toys, Whipping, dominance play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-29
Updated: 2010-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nan_Golden/pseuds/Nanfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toshiko considers Owen's character and actions after Day One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Peculiar Kind of Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Courage is a peculiar kind of fear. ~Charles Kennedy

It had been three days since the sex gas incident with Carys. Three long days of Gwen settling in, wide-eyed and apologetic. Tosh was tired. She was glad to be home. She was used to a solitary and calming space while she worked. Gwen’s persistent nervous chatter and offers of assistance were offered with the kindest and most sincere intentions. It grated, despite Tosh’s understanding nature.

Truthfully, she knew, it wasn’t Gwen who was disrupting her piece of mind. Realistically, she knew that Torchwood would always have a rotating cast of members. No one could be constant in such a line of dangerous work. Not even Jack. Her mind shied away from contemplating Jack’s absence. She only hoped that she wouldn’t be around to endure it.

Owen. It was Owen who damaged her peace. Not that she ever felt at peace around him. He was too caustic, too defensive, too much of a...git. She smiled at his colourful terminology. Git. Owen was a bloody git.

She paced her apartment. This train of thought needed some wine to soothe the ride. A good bottle of red wine was uncorked and poured. Tosh rarely indulged, but tonight was already out of the ordinary. She unpacked her laptop and set it up. She took a long drink of wine. Tosh pulled up the CCTV footage from Carys’ cell. Owen would be paying for his carelessness and complete loss of dignity for a long time. She smirked; it had been so difficult to resist making a screen saver of a humiliated and naked Owen, hands cupped over his groin, waiting for Jack to rescue him.

Waiting for Jack. Cocky – in more than the literal sense– Owen completely at the mercy of them all. Tosh drank another draught of wine and studied the footage. Owen playing with fire. Going down to the cell after Gwen had fallen under the influence of the alien. His excuse was that he was monitoring Carys’ vitals, checking the relentless progress of the alien inside of her. Remote sensors made a moot point of that feeble excuse. Owen was fascinated. Sex that would kill you. How destructive and foolhardy to want to risk the exposure.

Sex and Owen went hand in hand, didn’t they? Every week on the pull. Every sexual encounter was with an unfamiliar face. Transitory events that ended with the morning. Was Owen looking for a final self-destructive shag? He had, no doubt, gone on the pull in the club Carys had been in. Shorts skirts, tank tops, high heels…was that what Owen looked for in a woman? Tosh pulled up the CCTV from the women’s washroom and the dance floor. Carys had been stalking. Her short skirt bunched up around her waist. The fast rutting on the sink counter. Had Owen ever fucked in a club’s washroom? He could have been there. He could have been that victim she was watching explode, nothing left but ash. A punch line to be filed away in the archives. It almost happened.

Tosh took another sip of wine, watching it swirl in the bowl of the wineglass. It almost happened. Why did she have to pine away over such a self-destructive git? The fear she felt when she found out that Owen was in the cell with Carys. It wasn’t the loss of Owen and their relationship that struck her at the time, but the loss of the possibilities. Why didn’t she pursue Owen? Why didn’t he notice her? Why was she such a coward? He could’ve died before she had touched him. She brought the window showing a naked Owen to the forefront and zoomed in.

He was sparse and well muscled. She didn’t realize how thin he was. Another sip of wine and her fingers traced over the image of his body. This wasn’t how she imagined finally seeing him naked. Those fantasies were sweet, involving a long slow seduction by Owen, over dinner. Walking hand in hand from a restaurant back to his place, her body thrumming. How…pedestrian. She should just show some cleavage and more leg. She was over-thinking this.

On the top shelf of Tosh’s bedroom closet was a large box. Nearly the size of a hatbox. It was papered with a beautiful rose pattern. She pulled it out and set in on her bed. The setting, the mood had to be more conducive to her imaginings before she opened it. Tosh took a shower to wash off a long day in the Hub. She put on her robe and studied her wardrobe. Show some cleavage and legs. She pulled out a deep purple blouse and a rust coloured short soft suede skirt she had never worn outside of her home. They were so feminine and more revealing than she was comfortable with.

She donned a lacy transparent bra. Followed by a matching plum coloured slip. She loved rich jewel tones. Now the setting was right. She opened the lid of the box and considered the contents. The harness would be used. She considered Owen’s small arse. The purple dildo attachment was one of the smallest. Tosh smiled, she’d go easy on Owen tonight. It was silicone, nice and smooth. No underwear to interfere with the harness as she slipped in on and fastened the buckles. She pulled on the skirt and zipped and fastened the button. She put on some red lipstick. Perfect.

Tosh picked up the dildo and returned to her laptop. Another swallow of wine and the glass was empty. Her thumb smeared her lipstick print. She considered Owen’s massive cock-up. She went back to her bedroom and came back with a riding crop and wearing black stilettos. “Owen, you stupid git.” she whispered to his naked image. She buckled the strap on into place. “Thinking with your cock.” Her fingers traced over his skin, her imagination stripping his pale flesh with pink lines from her nails and crop. Stinging hot marks. Her marks, his punishment.

The dildo tented the front of her skirt, raising it up even further. She swung her hips slightly back and enjoyed the sensations of the dangling harness straps sliding over her legs, the slight bounce of the dildo pressing against her clitoris. Tosh picked up the riding crop and fingered the braided leather. It had such a sweet and sharp sting. She was in control. She could trail it over Owen, make him shiver, tickle him with the tassel on the end of the handle and make him laugh. She could make him gasp and cry when it sliced through the air onto his back, his buttocks.

Eyes closed, Tosh pictured the chaos in the Hub after Carys’ escape. Her fantasy required some creative license with the day’s events. Jack sent her down to the cells to release Owen. The urgency of Cary’s recapture was lessened. Tosh had all the time she needed to deal with Owen. The sound of her heels echoed in the lower levels. Tap, tap, tap, Owen heard her coming and edged toward the cell door.

“About time somebody showed up. Hurry up Tosh, my arse is freezing.” Owen greeted her.

Tosh remained silent and leaned forward against the glass barrier. The dildo pressed into her belly, her breasts flattened out beneath the pressure.

“Tosh, let me out already.” Owen snapped. “This isn’t funny.”

Tosh sighed. Their eyes met. Owen looked angry and wary.

“You are funny Owen. You’re a joke.” Owen looked shocked, then furious at Tosh’s bluntness.

“I’m a joke? What about Gwen? She’s the one who started this mess.”

Tosh leaned harder into the glass divider. Owen’s gaze flicked to her cleavage.

“Gwen started this with an innocent error. You allowed Carys to escape. You knew what the consequences would be when you came down to the cells. Gwen’s only crime was bad aim.” Tosh smiled meanly. “If anyone else dies, Owen, it’s your doing.”

Silence from Owen. His body deflated and with hands still cupped over his groin, he backed up until his back touched the wall behind him. He stared at Tosh as if he couldn’t believe that this cruel woman could possibly be her. Yes, Tosh thought, I am this cruel. I’m just letting you see it.

Tosh opened the cell door and walked in. She stood before Owen. He still wore an expression of disbelief.

“Why did you come down here Owen?”

Owen glared at her. “To get readings. You know why.”

“She was being remotely monitored. You could get all the data you needed from the sensors. Yet, you still came down here. No precautions, no mask…why?”

“Fuck you. Jack’s the boss here. If he’s asking, I’ll tell him the same thing.”

“Jack will ask. But you’re not going to tell him the same thing.”

“How the fuck would you know anything about it?”

Tosh shifted her hips. Owen noticed the bump underneath her skirt for the first time. His eyes lingered over her legs and the stilettos.

“What’s with the get-up Tosh? Packing some heat? Getting in touch with your inner bitch?”

“You’ll know when you’ve met my inner bitch. She’s on her way.”

“Lovely, you’ll excuse me if I don’t stick around for the show. I’m not your punching bag or support group here.” He tried to step aside and head for the door. Tosh quickly stepped forward, barely touching Owen. The strap on gently rubbed against Owen’s hands.

Shock, rather then force, kept Owen still. “Tosh, what the fuck are you doing?”

Tosh leaned closer to Owen. The warmth of her body, the sensations of silk and suede made Owen shiver.

“I’m asking you why you came down here. I want you to tell me.” Tosh whispered. She placed her hands, one on each side of the wall beside Owen’s hips. They had never been so close physically to each other. They had never even hugged before. Tosh’s body thrummed. This was so much better than dinner and dancing. Nothing pedestrian here.

“Were you looking for a fuck? How many women do you fuck every week? You’re just the kind of man who’d follow a woman into the toilets to shag. Did the footage of Carys bring back any memories?”

“Like you’d know what goes on in a club. You’re the type, love, who gets her thrills second hand. How many batteries do you go through every week?”

“I’ve got rechargeable batteries and a very vivid imagination.” Tosh’s hands crept closer to Owen hips.

“Imagination, right.” Owen sneered.

“At least I don’t need the reams of porn that you download on Torchwood time.”

“They’re bookmarks. And they’re private. Privacy, heard of it?”

“Nothing you do on a computer here is private Owen. Technical genius, remember?”

“Technical genius my arse. More like a lonely sad stalker. Should I be flattered? All you had to do was ask, Tosh. I’m big enough to give you a sympathy fuck if the cobwebs are getting too thick in your knickers.”

“I’m not looking for a duster Owen. I don’t plan on being fucked by you.” Tosh pressed her groin into Owen’s, the strap on edging between his hands.

“Fucking hell.” Owen gasped as his mental image of a shy, pathetic and sexless Tosh disintegrated.

“Fucking hell.” Tosh repeated as her hands grasped Owen’s hips. His skin was cool and smooth. She molded her hands around his prominent hipbones. She braced herself for a violent withdrawal. Owen was arrogant enough to think himself much stronger then her.

“Isn’t this what you were looking for? Shouldn’t you be thanking me? A quick fuck? Some cleavage, some leg and no chance of you getting ending up a pile of dust.” Tosh smiled, “Ianto wouldn’t thank me for making him have to vacuum you up.”

Owen gasped when Tosh’s grip tightened. Their quick breaths were the only sounds in the cell...

Now was the time to appreciate the power of fantasy. She could’ve left the harness and strap-on off and treated herself to the simpler scenario of being fucked by an appreciative and non-threatened Owen. She truly had no idea if Owen would want to be pegged. She could only surmise that he would want to be in control, no complications to his quicksilver encounters. A reluctant Owen gave her the power, the challenge of convincing him that this complication was worth it for both of them. She could’ve had a compliant Owen, but even in her fantasies, Tosh still respected him enough to give him a backbone.

Good thing she hadn’t pulled out the riding crop yet…

Owen stared at her, waiting for her script to animate him, a manifestation of her cowardice. Her conscience stirred. Owen, she thought, tell me that you want this. Tell me that I’m not off the mark, that I’m not despicable for doing this to you.

“Why are you doing this,Tosh?” Owen asked quietly.

Tosh drew back and studied Owen’s face, the canvas that she would fill in with lust and affection towards her.

“It could have been you in the club. All for just a fuck, you could’ve died right now.” Tosh pushed down her tears. “You could’ve died without knowing how I feel about you.”

Owen’s brow creased in puzzlement.

“I…always wanted you, Owen. Always. Why don’t you see that?” Tosh closed her eyes. Why did she have to make this so complicated? Why wasn’t Owen already stripped with pink and on his hands and knees? Why couldn’t she just fuck him already? Oh. She saw it now. Her route to Owen was always foremost through her heart, her pedestrian heart.

“You could’ve found…a less drastic way of telling me.”

“You’re a drastic measures kind of guy.” Tosh smiled and slid her hands up Owen sides. “I got tired of the longing looks and dropping hints and… you really are as thick as a brick when it comes to me.” Tosh felt embarrassment at her get up. “I thought this was the best way to get your attention, that this is what you look for in a woman.”

Relief, oh relief. Tosh had finally been honest with herself and brave enough to speak her feelings. Tosh felt light…and wet. Finally. Pressed up against a naked Owen hadn’t roused her lust, until she became naked herself. Well, not literally. That would come later. It was still her fantasy after all.

“I didn’t know, Tosh. I didn’t see you. I’m sorry for that.” Owen took a deep breath, “I don’t know why I didn’t.”

This admission moved Tosh. She bowed her head to avoid Owen’s compassion. This is what she had wanted. To be seen. To be acknowledged. She had felt like a ghost, akin to Ianto in his butler mode. She couldn’t fathom what was behind his reserve. After Canary Wharf, she could hardly begin to imagine the scale of his suffering. It put her incarceration into perspective. At least she was the only one who had been damaged. Outside of her cell, her family, her friends, had continued onwards unaffected, whole and safe. Alive.

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. I don’t expect you to suddenly declare love for me…I just want to be seen. Everyday I’ve been a coward around you.”

This was what she wanted. Owen, the insufferable git, who suffered after Katie’s death. No, nothing in a Torchwood database was private from the technical genius. She knew about his fiancé. That he was still determined to marry her after the onset of her mysterious illness. Her knowledge of his tragedy gave her the ability to disregard his casual cruelties, his cheap regard for sex, and his other self-defensive behaviours that would send a self-respecting woman running in the opposite direction.

Well, not completely. Maybe after giving him a well-deserved smack. She knew that he was capable of love. Tosh wished that she could talk to Owen about Katie.

“I see you, Tosh.” Owen whispered.

Bliss, bliss, her fingernails dug into his skin. Owen winced but remained still, understanding her need for reassurance. He was here. He was her anchor in this dream. Owen finally unclasped his hands and placed them gently on her hips.

“I’m still here. I’m not dust.”

Tosh ran her hands up Owen’s side and laid them flat on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Owen was still here. Owen wasn’t dust. Owen was going to be affected by her. She pushed him abruptly into the wall behind him; air whooshed out of his lungs and into her face, past her open lips. She sucked it in. Owen was alive.

“Don’t you ever do something so stupid again!” Tosh snapped.

Owen stared at her in surprise; his expression became sly.

“It’s always the quiet ones.” He smirked.

Tosh reached behind her and gripped the riding crop tucked into her waistband. Some of the real Owen was trickling into this fantasy. Joke, just a joke, she knew, but she wasn’t feeling so compassionate at the moment. She slowly withdrew the crop. Power. She had purged the coward and she felt so light. So powerful.

She slowly ran the tip of the riding crop over Owen’s stomach.

“You have no idea what the quiet ones are capable of. What you’ve overlooked.”

“Does this mean that Ianto’s a leather daddy in his spare time?”

Tosh couldn’t help it, she laughed, and Owen joined her.

“Ass…ass-less chaps would be quite the look on him.” She managed to wheeze out. “I dare you to call him…sir.”

“Hell, no. He’ll probably put laxatives in my coffee.”

“You would be punished in many subtle and creative ways. Indefinitely.”

Eye contact with Owen just made the laughter worse. They both slid down the wall into positions that didn’t require as much oxygen.

Eventually, their laughter sputtered out and they sat side by side in silence, listening to Janet prowling in her cell and the dim sound of water trickling.

“We’re friends, aren’t we, Tosh?” Owen asked.

“Of course we are!” Tosh replied. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “I always thought so.”

“You want more though, don’t you?”

Tosh turned to meet Owen’s gaze. He looked like he was deep in thought. Being the focus of Owen’s undivided attention was unnerving after being in its periphery for years. She nodded.

“I don’t know what I’m capable of giving you, Tosh.”

“What ever you can, that’s all.”

It was getting hard to restrain herself. Owen was still naked. He was as open as it was possible to be. Tosh leaned against him, wishing he would put on arm around her. He did. Tosh felt envious of his anonymous shags. What was Owen like as a lover? All of that time spent together and she didn’t know. Susie did. No, Susie had no place here. No musings on the dynamics of Owen and Susie.

“Is this how you pictured this conversation going? Me, starkers in a cell? Sounds like the script of a porno.”

“I did tell you that I had a vivid imagination.”

“I don’t think this was the original script.” Tosh blushed. Ironic, considering that Owen was the naked and supposedly humiliated one here.

“Dinner and dancing…or a night out at a pub.” She blurted.

“What’s wrong with dancing? I’m a great dancer, I’ll have you know.”

“It’s so…ordinary. Didn’t think that was your typical Friday night.”

“I wouldn’t have a typical night with you.”

“No?’

“Nope. A very atypical night would be in order.”

“Do you fancy a game of pool sometime? Might be nice to, I don't know, kick back and have some fun.”

“Love to Tosh. On one condition.”

Deep breath. “What would that be? “

“You can’t use math to cheat.”

“Math isn’t cheating!”

“Says the genius with the unfair math advantage.”

“Deal. No math, just geometry.”

“No geometry.”

“Physics?”

“No physics.”

“Can I wear this blouse to distract you?”

“Hell, yes.”

“That’s sorted then.”

“Tosh?”

“Yes Owen?”

“Did you bring any clothes with you? These cells are bloody cold. My bits are much more impressive usually, really.”

“Hadn’t noticed.” Tosh smiled cheekily. She stood up and offered a hand to Owen. He grabbed it and pulled himself up. Being pedestrian wasn’t so bad.

“Tosh?”

“Yes?”

“Bring that riding crop with you.”

No, definitely not going to be a typical night out. She nodded.

“Let’s get you out of here and back to being impressive.”

Tosh came back to herself. She took deep breaths. That didn’t go as planned, no pegging, no whipping, no humiliated Owen begging for her so sweetly in a cell. That was all right. More than all right. Her plans had only taken Owen’s body into account, not his emotions, his sense of humor. She did have a vivid imagination, after all. Time to use it to create reality.

A game of pool. Just ask, do you fancy a game of pool sometime?

Just ask.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first fanfic piece. It was orginally titled: The Coward's Way. Originaly posted on LJ on Jun. 2nd, 2009


End file.
